WHAT FORM OF MADNESS IS THIS THAT RACES THROUGH MY AGED MIND,
FORGETFULLNESS, BITS AND PIECES OF YESTERYEAR,CELLULOID
AMBER PHOTOS, FADED LIKE AN OLD PICTURE HUNG ON A WALL,
WHERE THAT PICTURES HUNG, I HAVED NO RECALL.
MEMORIES OF YOUTH SCATTER, LIKE DUST IN THE WIND
NAMES THAT NO LONGER MATCH FACES, EVEN SOME KIN
WITH TREMBLING HANDS AND FADED SIGHT,
I WONDER WHAT THE GARGOYLES WILL BRING TONIGHT
PAINS IN THE HEAD, LEGS, BACK AND LOUD RINGING IN THE EARS
WHERE HAVE THEY GONE, THOSE SO CALLED GOLDEN YEARS
GONE WITH PASSING OF FAMILY AND OLD FRIENDS IN AN EVER
FLOWING RIVER OF TEARS.